How many claims to fame does any one person really need? In Petra Haden’s case, you can start with her father, legendary bassist Charlie Haden, and continue with her stints in that dog., the Rentals, and the Decemberists, among other notable acts, right on through her other works (session, solo, or otherwise) including her awesomely virtuosic a cappella recreation of The Who Sell Out. Somewhere down the line of Haden’s accomplishments was her 1999 collaboration with accordionist/ photographer Alicia J. Rose, aka Miss Murgatroid, with whom she released the overlooked and/or forgotten Bella Neurox, a disc of accordion, vocals, and violins tailor made for the twee, quirky, and weird. And now, nearly 10 years later, Petra Haden and Miss Murgatroid have returned in tandem with a sequel, Hearts & Daggers.
Christine Shield’s album art doesn’t exactly raise expectations for the disc. It’s a panoramic depiction of a sort of Children’s Crusade in retreat, dejected kiddies following a trail of discarded crowns and scepters away from a burning castle, with cute little cats cuddling by their feet. It’s a red flag warning that Hearts & Daggers may basically be the musical equivalent of just that sort of notebook doodle, the soundtrack to a dramatic play put on by precocious kids that, whether by accident or intent, dips deep into the well of ancient madrigals and other Renaissance Faire fare.
Except that against all odds, the results aren’t nearly as precious as that description might make them appear. For starters, Miss Murgatroid and Haden are hardly show-boaters, preferring to enlist the more understated characters of their respective chosen instruments. Both players also have a keen ear for evocative arrangements that toe the subtle line between song and curious assemblage. The way the pair approach “Fade Away,” for example, is as equal parts shanty, pop tune, and Laurie Anderson–style minimalist deconstruction. Even if it lacks the compelling visual counterpart it so clearly demands (in the form of, say, a modern dance piece or a pretentious student film), it’s still a winning composition. Besides, isn’t that what imaginations are for?
Elsewhere, “Baroque Lullaby” toys seamlessly with both classical and folk idioms, a sweet audio frolic akin to such playful chamber groups as the Penguin Cafe Orchestra but minus the barrier of aloof intellectual distance, while “See Me See Me” and “Something’s Wrong” similarly straddle the difference between pop and Pops (in the orchestral sense). “Ballad for Anne Bonney” and “Another Day” show off such a firm grasp of the power of contrasting tones and complementary harmonic motifs that they further belie any lingering suspicion that Hearts & Daggers is some sort of navel-gazing frivolity.
No, what makes the disc feel so special despite its relative insignificance is the seriousness with which Haden and Rose take these mini-symphonies, each of which resonates with its own distinct identity despite sharing the same (very) few ingredients. There’s a simplicity and innocence at work here that smartly surmounts whimsy to achieve something harder to pin down. Essential? No. Vital? Hardly. But no doubt were you to come across the two blissfully performing at a subway stop, you’d gladly toss a few bucks into the hat and ride home happy and content with the decision as you hum to yourself a few lingering, mysterious melodies.
